It's just not enough
by jadee.loves.supernatural
Summary: A brother fic. The brothers reunite to begin the quest to avenge their mother's death. Can they do it? Involves a new character, Carl. Please read and review.
1. Chapter 1

Hey, this is the first story i have posted on this website. This is a story about Sam and Dean, but they have another brother too, Carl. Please read and review, I would love to know what you think. I have posted the story on another forum and it got great reviews... give it a try.

Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural, only the character Carl.

Carl pondered the poltergeist they had defeated with vague interest, he had kill them so many times that it almost bored him. Almost.

Hunting was his life, all he had ever known. Why stop now was his attitude, he could never go back to civilisation living a normal life with an equally normal job. The thought scared him, he depended on his job. The routine and discipline a skill he had master over many years of hard work and hard love, it was a part of him, carved into his soul.

He chuckled inwardly, Sam would not agree with that. Sam had always been different to the rest of the family. He craved normalcy, he even had the courage to go after it, leaving a broken family behind doing so. Dean was like Carl, always seeing the good things about the job, relishing the kill in a way that scared Sam but made John proud.

John was such a hard man to please, always looking for the bad, the evil in innocent things. He always found it so hard to show love to his children after Mary was killed. A part of him died along with her that fateful night, the part that showed remorse and compassion. The only thing he cared about was revenge, putting that evil son of a bitch through as much pain he went through and then some.

Awakened from his thoughts, he stared around the dimly lit motel room. It was nothing fancy, two small beds in the main room, with a dirty kitchenette in the corner of the room, then leading through to an equally grimy bathroom. Dean lay sprawled on the bed breathing deeply in his sleep. The worry lines on his face grew smaller and made him look instantly younger and innocent to the cruel ways of the world.

Carl sighed and looked down at his watch, it read 7.54am. His stomach responded to the acknowledgement, with a low residing growl. Deciding that it was time for some well deserved food, but more importantly coffee, Carl tiredly rose from the bed.

"Dean, Dean get up" he yelled. Dean rolled over and opened one eye.

"What time is it?" he grunted rubbing the sleep out of his eyes gingerly.

"Time to get your lazy ass out of bed, I gonna get some coffee, you want some?" Carl replied, he was in a bad mood through lack of sleep and needed wake his brain with much needed caffeine.

"What do you think?", Dean said. Carl smiled, Dean loved his coffee, he would never refuse an offer of coffee.

"Kay well, I'll be back in around 20 minutes, you better be up and dressed when I get back!" Carl responded in mild annoyance.

Dean, mumbled under his breath and stumbled to the bathroom. A minute later the sound of water running met Carl's ears and he pulled his sneakers on, reached for the doorknob and let the morning air hit his crumpled from. Blinking from the sudden light hitting his sensitive eyes, he started toward the only coffee house in the run down town.

The journey was however interrupted by someone Carl was least expecting to see…

--

Carl stumbled back, having hit something solid. He looked at the figure astonished. The man's tall frame slumped slightly as he looked at Carl, his eyes hidden in a slight shadow streaking across his face.

"Dad! What the hell are you doing here? I thought you was in Arizona". Carl was in a state of shock.

The sun shone brightly, burning through a cloud and restricted Carls view, glaring from every reflective surface. He shielded his face and looked closely at his dad, taking in the harsh lines on his forehead, the dull bruise around his right eye and the shallow cut along his chin.

"I was but something has come up! Now, listen up, I need you to go get Sammy!" John was in no mood for pleasantries, and it showed in his gruff voice.

"What? Dad, why do we need Sam?" Carl responded, questioning his father in a way that would not end well, and he knew it.

"Look son, you need to get Sam, make him come with you, he can't stay at Stanford, he is in danger!" John was quickly losing his patience. Why did his sons question him? He thought he had drilled into them never to question his orders, that things needed to be done when he said they should be.

"Danger, what kind of danger?

"JUST GO AND GET SAM, that's an order", yelled John. Anger bubbled inside him and Carl was pushing a boundary that could send it overflowing.

Carl recognised his was hitting John's buttons but there were things more important to think about. If John said Sam was under threat from something or someone, then Carl would be there in a flash, ready to do whatever it takes to protect him.

The motel room, 10 minutes later

"Let me get this straight, dad has just told you that we need to go get Sam from Stanford because he is some kind of danger?" Dean said looking at Carl with bewilderment.

Ten minutes earlier Carl had come bursting into the room in a panicked rush. After Dean had managed to get him to calm down, Carl recited the encounter he had just had with their dad.

"Yes, we need to go now!" Carl replied, as he started to chuck his belongings into his bag haphazardly.

The urgency in his voice triggered something in Dean, and he suddenly began to realize the severity of the situation. He hastily joined Carl, retrieving his possessions and bundled them into the mucky duffle bag.

A few minutes later they were in the impala, rock music blasting into the air of the sleepy town, on their way to save their baby brother from a danger unknown to them.

The impala was speeding down the deserted highway, the black lines a blur to the human eye. Carl was scrunched in a tight ball, his sleep fitful and disturbing due to the uneven road beneath them.

Dean glanced over at his brother with worry and intrigue. Something about the whole situation unsettled Dean and certainly did Carl. Why now? Sam was living the normal life he had always dream but his brothers were about to tear that dream apart.


	2. Chapter 2

Hey, the next chapter is up. I would like to say thank you to mac316 for adding my story as a favourite. I really need some reviews, i have no idea if it is any good. How can i continue without input from you? Please read and review.

Disclaimer: I do not own supernatural, only the character Carl.

Stanford university

Jess pulled on her school style socks, with excitement. Today was Halloween, a time for parties, alcohol and enjoyable company.

"SAM, you coming or not?" She yelled.

"Do I have to?" Sam mumbled as his stuck his head around the door. He hated this time of year, and Jess knew this.

"Yeah, it'll be fun!" She answered as she slinked toward him, "and where is your costume?" She added in a flirty voice looking him up and down.

"You know how I feel about Halloween!" he responded looking at his girlfriend with appraising eyes.

Jess stood tall, at about 5'10. Her long legs matching her equally long socks. Her blue eyes searched the mirror in front of her, noting the tight fitting nurse costume perfectly sitting on her slender frame. Grabbing Sam's hand she pulled him to the door, hastily snatching her bag as they left the apartment.

At the party, the young couple sat at a table, searching the crowd surrounding them finding no one they knew. Jess busily ordered some shots as they discussed Sam's law school interview, which was on Monday.

"Sam, you scored a 146, do you have any idea how good that is?" Jess exclaimed in disbelieve at Sam's lack of confidence.

Sam look at Jess lovingly, "What would I do without you?" he asked as he leaned into her.

"Crash and burn" She replied before she kissed him softly.

Sam and Jess apartment

Sam woke surprise as he heard a noise in the otherwise silent surroundings. Sliding out of bed, he glanced back at Jess so to make sure he had not disturbed her, Sam stealthily crept out of the room into the lounge.

The intruder seeing his chance, pounced on Sam's tense body pulling his arm back with surprisingly gentle force. Sam responded aggressively pulling the intruder around to face his as he pinned him to the floor. A second pair of strong hands yanked him up form the grunting man, as he pushed him to the ground. The moonlight shone through the open window, illuminating the impostor face. To Sam's astonishment it was his brother Dean.  
"Dean, what the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked as he looked at his brother with amazement. Sam had not seen his brother in two years, not even bothering to call.

"Get off me Sam" Dean responded not answering Sam's question as he was completely squashed. Sam loosened his grip and pulled his brother up with both hands.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sam asked again.

"Well, we were looking for a beer" a voice said from behind. Sam whipped around to find the second person was none other that his other brother Carl. This was all to much for Sam to handle, so he has down on the couch with his head in his hands.

Carl studied his brother with some amusement. He knew this was a bad idea, suggesting to Dean that knocking on the door was a better option. However Dean had insisted that breaking in was the only way.

"Sam?" Jess called form the doorway in confusion.

Sam took his head up from his hands and got up from the couch. He walked over to his girlfriend and placed his arm around his waist protectively.

"Dean, Carl, this is my girlfriend Jessica" Sam said as he pulled her closer.

Carl looked her up and down taking in her tall body. The curves highlighted in the half light of the room make her seem irresistible. Dean was obviously thinking the same thing, a smirk stretched across his face.

"I gotta tell you that you are way out of my brother's league" Dean said huskily as he slid up to her. Sam rolled his eyes and scowled at his defiantly.

"Why are you here?" Sam asked getting steadily more impatient.

"We need to talk," Carl replied, adding "Alone!".

"Anything you have to say to me you can say in front of Jess" Sam stared coldly back at his brothers.

"You need to come with us" Dean said with uneasiness in his voice hating having to talk about this with strangers present.

"WHAT! No way, I am staying here, why do I have to come with you? "Sam replied indifferently. He didn't have time for this crap, it was just his family trying to reel him back into his old life.

"Sam, Dad was on a hunting trip, and he told us you are in danger" Carl said slightly angry that Sam wasn't getting how important the situation was. For some reason his life was in danger here.

"Jess, excuse us" Sam said with worry in his voice. What was going on, why was he in danger here, why now?

Little did he know he was about to find out…

Sam lead Carl and Dean out his apartment into the cramped corridor. Okay, this is surreal, Sam thought to himself. The three men stood unsure of what to do or say. Carl and Dean knew as much a Sam on this one, their dad had not told Carl nothing of what the danger was.

As the men talked they strode down the steep stairs, out into the warm autumn night. Sam took in the information his brothers recited to him, calculating the reasoning in which his brothers would come and get him so fast.

When Sam looked out onto the desolate street he saw the shadow of a man leaning against a monstrous looking truck. The forbidding man stepped forward under the glow of the street lamp revealing his true identity.

Sam gasped audibly, staring at the face of his father, unsure of what to do. Part of him was telling himself to run, but a bigger part was telling him to stay, to talk to him dad.

"Dad!" Sam stated, rooted to his spot on the floor.

"Hey Sammy" smiled John.

Sam stood mouth gaping. John walked up to his youngest son, noting the change in height. He chuckled, his son was taller than him.

"Listen Sam, I know we didn't part on the best of terms and I am sorry for that but you must go with your brothers, it is for your own safety!" John cut straight to the point, time was running short.

Tears came to Sam's eyes surprising John. He had expected Sam to shout at him, hell even hit him. Not this. It took John of guard, and he was suddenly overtook with a need to comfort his son. Something that rarely happened.

"I am sorry dad for everything I said before I left, I didn't mean any of it!" All of Sam's guilt flowed out of him.

" I know Sammy, I know!" John said huskily his voice filled with emotion. Something happened next that shocked both men, John locked his son in a fierce embrace. Sam retuned the gesture, his hands grabbing fistfuls of johns jacket.

"Oh man, a chick flick moment" Dean exclaimed from the sidelines. Carl elbowed him in the side, recognising how important this minute was to both his brother and father.

Hating having to break them up, Carl cleared his throat loudly causing John to pull away from Sam slowly.

"It is time to get to business" John muttered looking down at the pavement embarrassed as he hardly ever showed emotion in the presence of his children.

"Ya think!" Dean said sarcastically. Sam grinned realising that Dean's sarcasm had not run short in the part couple of years.

"Ok then, dad spill, you have kept us in suspense for the last few days, why is Sam in danger?" Carl questioned looking his dad in the eye.

John sighed "I can't tell you yet!"

"What do you mean you can't tell us yet?" Dean snapped.  
"I don't know much myself at the moment. I just need some time to figure things out but while I do that Sam can't stay here!" John answered.

"NO DAD! Here we go again, you controlling my life, why can't you just let me live?" Sam shouted anger flaring from the old fights.

"BECAUSE IF YOU STAY HERE YOU WON'T LIVE! That's the point!" John shouted back with the same intensity.

"Listen Sammy, just come with us, please. Hunting wasn't that bad, was it?" Carl asked.

"No, you right! It wasn't that bad, it was worse" Sam said with some anger leaving him.

"Look just for a little while, just till we know that you are completely safe." Carl pleaded. Sam's head whipped up and he looked into Carls eyes. Admitting defeat, Sam sighed.

"Let me go pack my things and say bye to Jess" Sam mumbled as he stalked back to the building.

Dean patted Carl on the back impressed. He thought they would have a huge fight on their hands getting Sam to come with them.

"I guess the Carl charm won out!" Dean laughed cutting the tension considerably.

"Jess? Who's Jess?" John asked confused.

"Oh Sammy has finally pinned himself a girl!" Dean joked. Secretly he was happy for his baby brother but it was his job to tease. John nodded approvingly at Sam having found someone.

At that moment, Sam reappeared out of the door, laden with three heavy looking bags never one to travel lightly. Sam dumped the bags in the impala and turned around.

"So, where are we headed?" he questioned grumpily.

"You boys are going to Jericho, California but I have a job that needs talking care of!" John said waiting for the onslaught of questions.

"What's in Jericho?" Carl asked.

"I was checking out this two-lane blacktop outside of Jericho, California. About a month ago they found this guys his car but he'd vanished, completely M.I.A. Well, here's another one in April another one in December '04, '03, '98, '92. Ten of them over the past 20 years, all men, all same 5-mile stretch of road. Started happening more and more so I want you to go dig around." John replied informatively.

"Ok then, lets shag ass! Call us when you find something dad." Dean said gleefully unable to wait, he was itching for a hunt.


	3. Chapter 3

Come on, people... please read and review. I need reviews.

All the while Sam stayed quiet, stooping into the car and setting in himself in the back. The men parted ways, Dean and John starting up their cars and shooting down the road.  
Four hours later the impala pulled into a dusty looking gas station. Dean jumped out the car, desperate for the toilet. Carl strolled into the store buying some peanut MnMs for Dean, a diet coke for him and some Doritos for Sam.

Meanwhile, Sam glimpsed a box of tapes under the dashboard. Leaning over the gearshift Sam yanked out the box and began looking at the taps with disgust. Dean opened the door at the driver's side and slid in looking refreshed from the small amount of fresh air.

Just then, Carl got into the car his arms full of junk food. Sam looked around at him wondering to himself how both his brother are not obese by now.

"So how'd you pay for that stuff? You and dad still running credit card scams?" Sam enquired.

"Yeah well…hunting ain't exactly a pro-ball career. Besides, all we do is apply, it's not our fault they send us the cards." Carl said innocently.

"Yeah and what names did you write on the application this time?" Sam said amused at their lack of shame.

"Uh…Bert Aframian and his sons, Hector and Joseph. Scored three cards out of the deal." Dean sniggered almost proud.

"Sounds about right. I swear man; you gotta update your cassette-tape collection." Sam said shaking his head.

"Why?" Dean asked in a mock hurt voice.

"Well for one they are cassette tapes, and two, Black Sabbath? Motorhead? Metallica? It's the greatest hits of mullet rock." Sam sneered.

"House rules, Sammy. Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole." Promptly Dean grabbed a cassette from Sam and popped it in the ancient player.

"You know Sammy is a chubby 12 year old. It's Sam, okay?" said Sam defiantly.

"I'm sorry, we can't hear you. The music's too loud." Carl piped in, laughing at the look on Sam's face. Oh yeah things are going to be different around here Carl thought to himself as the music blasted his ears.

The car approached the scene of the latest crime Dean stopped the car as Carl rooted around a box of fake ID's. Grabbing three ID's they got out of the car and strutted toward two chubby policemen. As they were doing this two other policemen came out of the river below having found nothing.

One of the policemen was investigating the boy's car listing to his partner "No sign of struggle, no footprints, no fingerprints. Spotless, it's almost too clean."

"You fella's had another one just like this last month, didn't ya?" Dean asked suddenly shocking the two men.

Looking at Dean suspiciously one of the men asked "Who are you?"

The three brothers flipped open their wallets with their fake ID's and US Marshall badges.

"Federal Marshals." Carl said with pride.

"You three are a little young for Marshals, aren't you?" The policemen looked them over with apprehension.

"Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You did have another one just like this correct?" Carl smoothed over quickly.

"Yeah, about a mile up the road. There have been others before that." The other policeman replied still looking at the Winchester with untrusting eyes.

"So this victim, you knew him?" Sam spoke for the first time causing the Policeman to look over at him abruptly.

The overweight man nodded slowly "In a town like this, everybody knows everybody."

Dean started circling the car looking for anything unusual "Any connections between the victims besides that they're all male?

"No, not so far as we can tell." one of the policemen replied grudgingly.

"So what's the theory?" Sam questioned as he went over by Dean, who was standing behind the car.

"Honestly? We don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?" the policemen responded looking tired.

"Well that is exactly the kind of crack police work that I'd expect out of you guys." Carl said with a cocky grin. Sam stomped on Carl's foot discreetly.

"Thank you for your time gentlemen." The Winchesters started to walk away as the two policemen watched them leave suspiciously. Once out of ear shot, Carl smacked Sam on the back of the head.

"Ow! What was that for?" Sam whined rubbing his head.

Carl just looked at him as Dean walked ahead rolling his eyes. Personally Dean agreed with Carl. The brothers got in the vehicle and drove away planning to come back later that night to investigate more.

That afternoon, the brothers did some digging around the town asking locals about the highway. When they where on the verge of giving up a girl told them a tale about a woman dressed in white taking men, for them never to be seen again. Needing more information Carl and Sam went to the local library to do more research while Dean stayed at the motel cleaning weapons.

Carl sat at the prehistoric computer, whistling under his breath to pass the time in between the pages forming on the screen. He was on the "Jericho Herald" web page. In the Search bar Carl typed in "Female Murder Hitchhiking". The page came back saying, "No results found." He tried typing in "Female Murder Centennial Highway", again, "No results found. By this point Carl was losing what little patience he already had, which left him prone to outbursts of words the teetering librarian strongly disapproved of. As she walked past she tutted clearly annoyed with Carl and his rudeness. Sam sat in the background watching intently, knowing not to interrupt his older brothers rant, not wanting to get the brunt of his anger. Carl rephrased the words and tried again, punching his fist down as the screen showed him no results. Deciding to step in, Sam stuck his hand out to grab the mouse.

"Let me try." Sam said quietly, rolling Carl's chair out of the way.

"Dude, you are such a control freak!" Carl muttered as he watched Sam work. Part of him was thankful that Sam had taken over. Research was not his thing, he had always been smart but had hated the work that needed to be put in. Teachers had always said he had potential but was too lazy, but hey he was fine with that. He knew he would be hunting most of his life and didn't need to be book smart. Still, he loathed his younger brother being in charge, it was Carls job.

"So angry spirits are born out of violent death, right?" Sam said knowledgeably.

"Yeah" Carl snapped. He was not in the mood of the for a lesson from Sam.

"So then maybe it's not murder." Sam replied decided to ignore Carls tone. He typed in "Female Suicide Centennial Highway" and a result came up. Sam looked around and smiled triumphantly, reading from the article, "In 1981 Constance Welch, 24 years old, jumps off Sylvania Bridge and drowns in the river!"

"Does it say why she did it?" Carl asked sitting up, interested.

"Yeah." Sam stated not adding any more, leaving Carl even more frustrated.

"Well, why?" Carl prompted.

"An hour before they found her, she called 911. Her two kids were in the bathtub, she left them alone for a minute, she came back, they weren't breathing. Both died." Sam answered.

"Hmm" Carl rubbed his stubbly chin, in deep thought.

Sam started to read an interview with Constance's husband "Our baby's were gone and Constance just couldn't bear it," Sam quoted her husband Joseph Welch.

On the computer screen, there was a picture of policemen at the same bridge that the last victim was found on, carrying away Constance's body in a bag.

"That bridge look familiar to you?" Carl quizzed. Sam looked closer, realization dawning.


	4. Chapter 4

Okay, the next part is up. You know the drill, please review.

At around midnight, the three brothers walked along the bridge with caution.

"So this is where Constance took the swan dive." Dean said as he looked over the edge into the water below.

"Yeah, I suppose" Sam replied while looking up and down the bridge more closely.

"Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?" Dean asked, deciding to change the subject.

Sam's body tensed up, ready for a fight. "No and she's not ever going to know." Sam said in a determined voice.

"Well that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are." Dean started to walk down bridge.

"Who is that?" Sam asked following him.

"One of us." Dean stated turning to face Sam. Carl could see where this was heading and it wasn't pretty, that's for sure.

"No, I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life." Sam said raising his voice.

"Well you've got a responsibility." Dean countered squaring up to Sam.

"To dad and his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what mom looks like. What difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, mom's gone, and she isn't coming back."

Dean instantly saw red, he grabbed Sam by the shirt and shoved him roughly against a rail on the bridge. Carl pried them apart cursing under his breath. He should have stopped them before it got that far.

"Don't talk about her like that." Dean threatened, his voice low. Sam looked down, ashamed of what he said.

"Umm guys…" Carl spoke with fear.

Sam turned to see a young woman in a flowing white dress, she glanced towards them before she let go of the rail she was holding on to and fell off the bridge. The Winchesters ran over to where they saw her drop, but there was no sign of movement in the water, or sound of her going into it.

"Where'd she go?" Dean was bewildered and out of breath.

"I don't know." Sam and Carl replied in unison.

Unexpectedly, the impala started up, the engine revving.

"Who's driving your car?" Sam qizzed sharply.

Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys to show that no one could be driving the car. The car started driving down the bridge towards them. Sam, Dean and Carl set off running in the opposite direction. As the car got closer, the three men ran toward the side of the bridge and jump off the railing. The car abruptly stopped.  
Carl pulled himself up from the egde of the bridge, shouting for his older brother at the same time. Him and Sam had gripped onto bridge while Dean had litereally taken the swan dive.

"Dean! Dean!" Carl was panicking now.

Dean crawled out of the murky water below. "What?" he replied finally, as Carl let out the breath he had been subconsciencly holding.

"Hey, are you all right?" Carl asked worriedly.

"I'm super!" Dean answered sarcastically, he was drenched and covered in foul smelling mud.

Carl let a sigh of relive and laughed, until he was interrupted by Sam's voice coming from below.

"Dude, a little help needed here" Sam shouted at Carl.

"Awww shit, sorry Sammy!" Carl pulled his brother up, which was no easy thing to do as Sam was a lot heavier.

--

Carl and Sam sat on their beds, each reading up on Constance and her family. Dean went out to get food, the incident the night before leaving them starving. Carl couldn't concentrate and looked over at Sam on the laptop. He sighed loudly to get Sam's attention. Sam looked up and realized they needed to talk about the night before.

"So, are you and Jess serious?" Carl requested, making sure to look Sam in the eye.

"If you mean do I love her then the answer is yes!"

"Well, then Dean is right you really should tell her the truth, it will come out eventually." Carl replied slowly.

Sam looked down thinking about what Carl had said.

"I mean, come on, what did you tell her you were doing with us?" Carl continued.

"I just said I needed to do something important with you guys." Sam admitted.

"And she just let you go without seeking a better explanation?" Carl was shocked.

"Yeah, we trust each other" Sam replied.

Carl broke eye contact. He wished for someone like that, the job was so lonely at points, moving from state to state never getting close anyone.

"Wow, that's just… wow" Carl was speechless.

"Yeah, I have never met anyone like her, y'know?! Sam smiled.

"No, I don't!" Carl muttered under his breath so Sam wouldn't hear. He tunred back to his book, looking at he job in a new light.

--

Silence rang through the room for the next 15 minutes, while Carl thought more about the case, hating the pitiful feeling growing in him. Sam seemed not to have noticed the change in mood and carried on looking through articles on the laptop. Carls phone shrilled interrupting both mens train of thought. Picking it up, he sighed at the number appearing on the screen. Dean had probably forgotten what they wanted to eat.

"What" Carl snapped, not meaning to sound so harsh.

"Dude, five-o take off." replied Dean in a hushed tone.

"What about you?"

"Uh, they kind of spotted me." Dean answered before clapping the phone shut discreetly. He turn around to the face of a young officer scowling at him.

"Problem officer?" Dean required in a fake cheerful voice.

All the while Carl and Sam were packing everything in their bags, careful to leave nothing behind knowing they would never get it back. Slipping out the motel hastely, the brothers shoved the bag in the back and slid into the impala. Carl and Sam smiled at each other, knowing Dean would hate them to drive his baby. Revving the engine, Carl drove the car smoothly out of the motel car park leaving dust in his wake.

"So where we headed" Carl asked, he had know idea where this case was going anymore.

"I am thinking to the husband, Joseph Welch. I have an inckling that we are dealing with a woman in white!" Sam was proud he had figured the case out, proving he still had the skills.

Carl paused for a moment running the facts through his head coming to the conclusion that Sam was most likely right.

"Not bad, little bro" Carl punched Sam playfully on the arm.

"Owww and thanks" Sam moaned before grinning.

The car pulled up outside a run down yard containing old car parts that scattered as far the the eye could see. A middle aged man came toward the car, covering in oil and grime.

"Can I help you?" He drawled loking the men up and down.

"We're working on a story together. It is about your wife Constance, do you mind answering a few questions?" Sam asked lightly.

"Okay, shoot."

"Where was your wife buried?"

"Huh?" The man seemed shocked by the question.

"Where was your wife buried?" Sam repeated.

"In a plot behind my old place over on Breckenridge."

"Why did you move?" Carl requested, frowning slightly.

"I'm not gonna live in the house where my children died." he responded defensively, looking Carl in the eye.

"Mr. Welch, did you ever marry again?" Sam asked while taking notes.

"No way. Constance, she was the love of my life. Prettiest woman I ever known."

"So you had a happy marriage?"

Joseph Welch hesitated briefly before adding "Definitely."

"Mr. Welch, you ever hear of a woman in white?" Carl asked recklessly as Sam looked around at him sharply. If they were wrong about this then they would have some explaining to do.

"A what?" He was losing patience.

"A woman in white, or sometimes a weeping woman. It's a ghost story. Well it's more of a phenomenon really. Um, they're spirits. They've been sited for hundreds of years. Dozens of places; in Hawaii and Mexico. Lately in Arizona and Indiana. All these are different women, you understand. But all share the same story."

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense." He replied while taking a threatening step forward.

"You see, when they were alive, their husbands were unfaithful to them. And these women, basically suffering from temporary insanity, murdered their children. Then once they realized what they had done, they took their own lives. So now their spirits are cursed. Walking back roads, waterways, and if they find an unfaithful man, they kill him, and that man is never seen again." Carl countered ignoring the mans comment.

"You think--You think that has something to do with Constance? You smartass." His voice shook with anger.

"You tell me" Carl said in a cocky voice.

"I mean maybe I made some mistakes, but no matter what I did, Constance would never would have killed her own children. Now you get the hell out of here, and you don't come back." He whispered with tears in his eyes.

"Well, that went well" Carl muttered dryly as they walked back to the car.

--


	5. Chapter 5

Okay, the final part of the first episode. You want more... please review.

Dean snuck into the compact phone box, looking aroung him for police officers. Sighing with relief, he dialled Sam's number. Sam picked up on the second ring, answering without any enthusiasm.

"Dude, I got out, how's the case going?" Dean asked.

"Dean? How the hell did you get out?" Sam was in shock.

"Not important right now, we can discuss my genius later."

"Oh haha" Sam replied sarcastically.

"So have you figured out the case yet?" Dean decided the ingnore Sam's comment.

"Yeah, so the husband was unfaithful, we are dealing with a woman in white. She's buried behind her old house."

"You are kidding me"

"Nope, we are heading…. ARGHHHHH"

"Sam? SAM?" Dean's voice was filled with worry.

In the impala, both men were breathing heavily having just ran through the spirit of Constance with the car. Carl looked over at Sam, making sure his little brother was okay.

Out of the blue, came the voice of a woman in the back of the car.

"Take me home" The spirit demanded.

"No." Carl responded bluntly.

Constance looked at Carl with disaproving eyes, as he stared back at her boldly. Suddenly the car door opened and he was thrown out of the seat by an invisible force. He landed awkwardly but managed to recover and got up quickly. The door slammed shut just as he got to it and the car began to speed up the highway.

"SAM! SAM!" Carl screamed after the impala and Sam looked back helplessly.

Dean came into Carls view as he sprinted up the road worry etched in his features.

"What the hell happened? Where is Sam?" Dean stuttered regaining his breath.

"Constance has him but I know where she is taking him" Carl's voice sounded like gravel from the yelling.

"Where?"

"Follow me" Carl said as they ran up the road toward the building at the end.

They reached the crumbling building within minutes and halted as they got to the imapla. Sam seemed to be battling some invisible force as he stuggled to breath. The figure of constance appeared and flicked on top of Sam's form. Dean and Carl shot at the spirit, distracting her so Sam could breath. Sam reached forward and gripped the keys, turning the engine on and running the impala into the deserted house.

Dean and Carl dashed in after the Sam and the car.

"Sam! Sam! You okay?" Dean asked as both brothers looked around with there guns drawn.

"I think. Help me." Sam replied breathlessly.

Dean and Carl pulled Sam out the car and looked around the house with distaste as Constance picked up a picture of her and her children that was lying on the floor. Constance threw the picture on the ground, and stepped aside, controlling the dresser she had been standing in front of, to go forward and pin the brothers against the hood of the car. They struggled to try to push it away as they grunted with the effort. The lights flickered on, and Constance turned around to see the stairs leaking water. She fearfully looks to the top of the stairs to see her two children standing there. The men watched as suddenly Constance's children are behind her. They grab her, and she screamed at the top of her lungs as she and her children melted into a puddle on the ground. Finally the men are able to push the dresser off of them. They walked over to the small puddle on the ground.

"So this is where she drowned her kids." Carl muttered.

"You found her weak spot. Nice work Sammy." Dean said as he jokingly hit Sam on the chest.

I wish I could say the same for you. What were you two thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freaks?

"Hey, saved your ass." Carl grinned.

"I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car, I'll kill you." Dean walked along the length of the impala as he examined the paint work.

Twenty minutes later the brother drove down the road. The car had one headlight out much to Dean's dismay and his younger brothers amusement.

"Hey guys, could we go back to Stanford? I really think I should explain some stuff to Jess."

Dean and Carl looked at him sharply.

"Like the truth?" Dean asked

"Yeah, I owe her that much"

Dean nodded as Carl studied Sam's face. He was happy for Sam that he had found someone he loved enough to tell her the big family secret. Three hours later they pulled up outside the silent apartment. Sam got out of the Carl telling his brothers that he needed to do this alone. They decided to wait for Sam for the next couple of hours having no where else to go. Sam was going with them on the next few hunts untill he knew it was safe for him at stanford.

He opened the front door, shutting it briskly behind him.

"Jess! You home?" He called through the silent apartment.

He walked through the kitchen. On the counter there was a plate of chocolate chip cookies, with a note in front of them that said, "Missed you! Love you!" He took a cookie, and ate it as he strolled in the bedroom. He heard the shower running, so he flopped onto the bed, closed his eyes to relax, and placed his head onto the pillow. One drop of something red dripped onto his forehead, which made Sam squeeze his eyes shut tighter in protest , then a couple more red dots. He opened his eyes and gasped, seeing Jess on the ceiling.

"No!" Sam screeched at her bleeding form.  
Dean and Carl burst through the door as her body set alight on the ceiling. The flames danced through her body.

"Jess!" Sam cried.

Dean grabbed Sam off the bed and tried to run him out of the room. Sam struggled against Deans grip, fighting to get back to Jess. Carl lead them out of the smoke filled apartment and onto the street.

Sam slumped to the floor, his grief flowing through him. Carl sank down onto his knees and pulled sam toward him, comforting him. Meanwhile Dean called the fire brigade as the fire engulfed the building.

Sam stayed in Carls arms as he sobbed into Carls chest. He let himself go and felt the pain capture him. Dean watched on, feeling the distress radiating form his baby brother. Rubbing his back, Carl looked on at the burning apartment Sam called home. The demon had done this to his family once and again had struck ripping Sam's world apart.

Sam pulled back, looking Carl in the eye as the tears fell rapidly down his face. Carl knew he was thinking the same thing he was. They were going to kill this Demon even if it took their last breath doing so.

As the brothers got into the car the looked one last time at the remains of the building. Carl and Dean then glanced at each other before Dean started the engine. He drove into the distance leaving Stanford behind them.


	6. Author's note

I would like to say a huge thank you to my two reviewers, CBloom2 and FireZombie.

CBloom2: Thank you so much. I wanted to try something different by adding another brother. I hope you like everything that is coming up, and keep reviewing.

FireZombie: Wow, i am a huge fan of your work on this website. I will make sure to review on you stories from now on, trust me. It is awesome you like me story, thank you so much. Hmm, Carl has been a bit angsty lately, huh. Well, that should change in the later chapters of the story... i am giving nothing away. LOL.

So, here is a character profile, so you can get the lowdown on him.

Carl Winchester's profile!

To see a picture of him, click here: imagesforum.doctissimo.fr/mesimages/3759009/Drew Fuller (15).jpg

Full name: Carl Mitchell Winchester

Age: 25

Eye colour: Green

Hair colour: Short, raven hair

Height: 5ft 11in

Personality: Carl is the middle brother, he always sorted out the arguments between Dean and Sam. He is confident, outspoken and energetic. He is also very impatient!  
He loves to kick back after a hunt buy having a beer in a bar and playing darts and pool, he loves to beat Dean because it annoys him.  
He is very protective of his family and when he was younger he would fight anyone who bad mouthed his family. He is a little overprotective of Sam like Dean.  
Dean and Carl are very close, they always had each others backs.

He finds himself wishing for something more from his life, as he sees Sam moving on with Jess. He feels like he is sacrificing his life to hunt evil. However, the hunt as always been his life and he wouldn't know how to let it go. Overall, he is a good guy who loves to have a laugh. He loves his brothers fiercely.


	7. Chapter 7

Okay, please read and review.

Sam tossed to the side banging his elbow on the window frame, oblivious to the pain he turn to the other side squeezing his eyes tightly shut. The images imprinted themselves on his eyelids, leaving him reeling, biting back the scream eager to burst out. Dean shifted agitatedly in his seat, keeping one eye on the road and one on a distressed Sam. Carl pushed himself forward, getting a better look at Sam. What he saw was not pleasing to the eye, on reflex he placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. Sam was again unaware on this action and continued to dream fitfully. Unable to see him in so much pain, Dean reached out shaking Sam gently.

"Sam wake up buddy!"

Sam jolted forward and gripped the dashboard firmly, his eyes were clouded with confusion. He looked around his surroundings as if lost.

"I take it I was having a nightmare." Sam mumbled as he rubbed the last of his sleep from his eyes.

"Yeah, another one."

"Hey, at least I got some sleep." Sam joked weakly.

"You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this." Carl's voice rang out, leaving silence in it's wake.

"Are we here yet?"

"Yup, welcome to Toledo, Ohio." Dean was happy for the subject change having instantly felt uncomfortable at what Carl had said.

Sam picked up a newspaper, concentrating on the words flowing along the page. It said "Shoemaker, Steven- The Shoemaker family is sad to announce the sudden death of their beloved husband and father, Steven Shoemaker. Steven was 46..." Sam stopped reading and looked up frowning

"So what do you think really happened to him?" He asked.

"That's what we're gonna find out." Carl replied as he looked around at the people of the town. Each of them had somewhere to be, someone to see. They had a life. Carl envied them, he wanted that so badly, to mean something to someone, to ultimately be loved. In his line of work, that dream was an impossible one, and he knew it.

"Lets go then!" Dean woke Carl from his revie. Carl had not even noticed they had pulled in to the car park. He blinked tiredly before stepping out of the car.

--

The three Winchester walked in to office with pride. Dean chuckled under his breath, while sliding his fake ID into his pocket. They had managed to get past security and into the morgue without the slightest suspicion arising.

"Hey." Dean spoke loudly so the technician would notice their presence.

"Can I help you?" The man required as he flicked his eyes to each brother.

"Yeah. We're the uh...med students." Carl spoke quickly trying to sound professional.

"Sorry?"

"Oh Doctor Figlavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. We uh…We're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemaker corpse. It's for our paper." Dean smoothed over while smiling.

"Well I'm sorry, he's at lunch."

"Oh well he said uh…Oh well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind showing us the body do you? Sam asked in his most innocent voice.

"Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour, you can wait for him if you want." The technician offered.

"An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then" Dean replied as he look around at both his brothers.

"Yeah." Sam sighed.

"Uh look man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out." Carl was losing patience.

"Oh look man, no."

Dean turned around and mumbled "I'm gonna hit him in his face I swear."

Sam hit Dean on the arm in warning. He stepped in front of Dean and opened his wallet, pulling out some twenty's. He laid a few of them down on the technician's desk. Carl rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Follow me." The technician called cheerfully as he scooped the money of the desk.

"Dude I earned that money." Dean hissed.

"You won it in a poker game." Sam whispered as he followed the morgue technician. Carl stifled as laugh as he waked past an irritated looking Dean.

"Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding." Sam clarified.

The morgue technician nodded as he pulled back the blanket over the corpse." More than that. They practically liquefied."  


"Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?" Dean queried.

"Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone."

"What's the official cause of death?" Carl asked grimacing at the body in front of him.

"Doc's not sure. Massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure."

"What do you mean?" Carl asked frowning slightly.

"Intense cerebral bleeding. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen." The technician replied while looking the body over.

"The eyes… what would cause something like that?"

"Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims." the man said in a matter of fact tone.

"Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?" Dean asked dubiously.

"That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor."

"Think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh…our paper." Carl asked looking the man in the eye.

"I'm not really supposed to show you that." The technician replied snidely.

Sam sighed annoyed, reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He handed the man a fistful of cash, rolling his eyes at the grin forming on his podgy face.

"Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing."

"How many times in dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?" Dean voiced as he took the last couple of stairs at a fast pace.

"Uh, almost never."

"Exactly" Dean huffed.

"All right, let's go talk to the daughter." Carl replied, hating this job already.

--

The three brothers walked into the house casually taking in there surroundings. They had decided the best option was to go to the funeral for Mr. Shoemaker. The house was comfy looking, a typical family home, Carl thought. As a child he longed for a home, a place to feel normal in but it never happened. A picture stood of Mr Shoemaker on the desk, he looked happy. As they strolled though the house, they began to feel more and more out of place. Everywhere they looked was bunches of men in black suits and women in black dresses.

"Feel like we're underdressed" Dean muttered.

They continued walking through the house towards the back garden. When they emerged from the throng of mourners they spotted what they assumed was the two daughters.

"You must be Donna right?" Dean asked in a friendly manner.

"Yeah."

"Hi uh—we're really sorry…" Sam vouched weakly. They must have dealt with hundreds of griving families, but never got easier.

"Thank you." Donna was grateful for that small comfort, just the simple words.

"I'm Sam, this is Dean and Carl. We worked with your dad." Sam said while pointing at his brothers.

"You did?"

"Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke." Carl replied in a soothing tone.

"I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now." A young woman spoke harshly from Donna's side. She looked at the men with untrusting eyes.

"It's okay. I'm okay."

"Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?" Dean continued on from Carl.

"No."

"That's because it wasn't a stroke." A petite girl half yelled from behind.

"Lily don't say that." Donna reprimanded.

"What?" Sam frowned, confused at the revelation.

"I'm sorry, she's just upset."

"No, it happened because of me." Lily looked up tears in her eyes.

"Sweetie, it didn't."

"Lily, why would you say something like that?" Sam asked coming down to Lily's eye level.

"Right before he died, I said it."

"You said what?" Sam was getting even more bemused by the second.

"Bloody Mary- Three times in the bathroom mirror. She took his eyes, that's what she does." She admitted boldly.

"That's not why dad died. This isn't your fault." Donna sighed.

"I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?" Carl demanded.

"No I don't think so." Lily replied weakly.

The brothers closed the conversation, while deciding to take a look upstairs for anything strange.


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you to my lovely reviewers again, you spur onwards. Well... here is the next chapter. Please read and review.

Sam, Dean and Carl walked towards the bathroom making sure to be quiet. When they got inside the bathroom, the scene they were met with was not what they expected. There was still some dried blood on the floor.

"The Bloody Mary legend- Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?" Sam queried looking around the compact room in interest.

"Not that I know of." Dean offered.

Dean stepped inside the bathroom properly, Sam stooped to the floor and touched the dried blood.

"I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, no one dies from it." Sam said.

"Yeah well maybe everywhere it's just a story but here it's actually happening." Carl answered, looking at his reflection in the mirror. What he saw look back at him was not what he expected. His normally vibrant green eyes were dull, years of wisdom ran through each fleck making him seem older than he was.

"The place where the legend began?" Sam requested as Dean shrugged his shoulders.

"But according to the legend, the person who says—" Sam looked at the medicine cabinet mirror which Dean was inspecting, it was now pointing towards  
Sam. Sam shut it uncomfortably. "The person who says you know what, gets it. But here—" Sam finished.

"Shoemaker gets it instead, yeah." Dean was begin to get tired of all the questions.

"Right." Carl affirmed.

"Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, "you know who" scratches your eyes out." Dean said.

"It's worth checking in to."

"What are you doing up here?" A voice called from behind the men ruthlessly. They jumped and whipped around in complete shock.

"We—we, had to go to the bathroom." Dean stuttered, offering his most charming smile.

"Who are you?"

"Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad."

"He was a day trader or something, he worked by himself." Charlie scrutinized.

"No, I know, I meant—" They were in too deep now and they knew it.

"And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming." Charlie cut in.

"All right, all right. We think something happened to Donna's dad." Sam answered holding his hands up in surrender.

"Yeah, a stroke." Charlie snapped.

"That's not a sign of a typical stroke. We think it might be something else." Carl said pointing to the floor.

"Like what?"

"Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth." Carl spoke sincerely.

"So… If you're gonna scream, go right ahead." Dean added in.

"Who are you, cops?"

"Something like that." Dean muttered.

"I'll tell you what. Here." Sam reached into his pocket, pulled out paper and pen and started writing their cell phone number down. "If you think of anything, you or your friends notice anything strange, out of the ordinary…just give us a call." He handed her the paper as he, Carl and Dean walk down the hallway.

--

Sam, Dean and Carl wandered around the town library casually. Books seemed to overflow their minds as they passed by shelf after shelf of weighty hardbacks. Sam's face shone as he looked around in awe, the opposite of Dean who outwardly groaned with boredom. It fascinated Carl how different they were in certain aspects. Sam was insightful, Dean was indifferent, or so it seemed to the outside eye. To Carl, Dean was just misunderstood, a man with too much on his shoulders. He always took the burden, feeling it was he responsibility, in truth Carl wished that Dean would let him take a load off, help him even. Carl shook himself, why had he been think so deep recently? It wasn't like him, but things can change, he reflected to himself. He allowed his train of thought to be interrupted but Dean's deep resounding voice.

"Say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof—Like a local woman who died nasty."

"Yeah but a legend this widespread it's hard. I mean, there's like 50 versions of who she actually is. One story says she's a witch, another says she's a mutilated bride, there's a lot more." Sam sighed.

"All right so what are we supposed to be looking for?" Dean questioned tiredly.

"Every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she 

always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers—public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill." Sam replied knowledgably.

"Well that sounds annoying." Carl said echoing Dean's tone.

"No it won't be so bad, as long as we…" He looked at the computers which all had bits of paper, with 'out of order' written on them, Sam chuckled unenthusiastically. "I take it back. This will be very annoying."

Sam's head rolled to the side sharply in an attempt to escape the scene playing out in his head. He was dreaming again. Carl watched attentively, he eyes searched Sam's face for some clue as to what was make him so afraid. Sam grunted suddenly, opening his eyes dazedly. He pulled himself up the bed identifying the surroundings as his motel room. Carl and Dean had decided that they would be more comfortable in there rather than the library. They lugged every book they had into the small room, ten minutes later Sam had been asleep with a book in his hands.

"Why'd you let me fall asleep?" Sam asked drowsily.

"Cause we're awesome brothers. So what did you dream about?" Dean inquired his tone falsely casual.

"Lollipops and candy canes."

"Yeah, sure." Dean replied sarcastically.

"Did you find anything?" Sam quickly changed the subject.

"Oh besides a whole new level of frustration?" Dean mocked "No. We have looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary."

Sam fell back against the pillows. "Maybe we just haven't found it yet."

"I've also been searching for strange deaths in the area, you know…eyeball bleeding, that sort of thing. There's nothing. Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary." Carl voiced

Just at that moment Sam's cell phone rang loudly, stopping their conversation abruptly. He lazily reached out for it without looking at the caller ID.

"Hello?" Sam mumbled looking up at the ceiling with boredom. Swiftly, his face changed to that of concern. Carl and Dean looked at each other quizzically. What had happened now?


	9. Chapter 9

Well, here is another chapter... still looking for more reviews. I have to say thank you to my reviews from the last chapter, CBloom2 and a new reviewer supernatural fan. As an answer to your question CBloom2, yes i am planning on adding Carl into all three seasons.

However, here is where i need your help... i am accepting requests for episodes you want me to do... any episode. I am not sure which ones you would like to read. You can send me your suggestions in a PM or a review... hint. LOL.

I hope to hear from you, but until then... here is the next chapter.

Charlie hunched over closing into herself in a way to find some comfort, sitting next to her Carl and Dean exchange a look over her head. Sam crouched down in front of Charlie trying to look into her eyes. Charlie sobbed into her hands as they slid over her face.

"And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her—her eyes. They were gone." Charlie manages to choke out through her tears. She had phoned Sam an hour ago, howling into the phone. One of her friends had died the same way as Mr Shoemaker.

"I'm sorry." Sam offered sincerely as he reached out to touch her leg comfortingly.

"And she said it." Dean looked up at Sam worriedly. "I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?" Charlie exclaimed.

"No, you're not insane." Dean spoke softly.

"Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse."

"Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained." Carl added keeping his voice low from everyone else in the isolated park.

"And we're gonna stop it but we could use your help."

Charlie hastily pushed the door open, locked it and ran over to the window. Sliding it open, she stepped back. Sam, Dean and Carl jumped into the room, threw their duffel bag on the bed and started riffling through it.

"What did you tell Jill's mom?" Sam inquired curiously.

"Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things." Sam pulled something out of the bag and Dean shut the curtains. "I hate lying to her."

"Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights." Carl muttered from the corner of the room.

Charlie went over to switch off the lights. "What are you guys looking for?"

"We'll let you know as soon as we find it." Dean said looking around at her.

Sam fiddled with the digital camera, and handed it to Dean. "Hey, night vision." Dean took the camera tiredly and turned on the night vision for him. "Perfect."

The digital camera was aimed at Dean, who turned and pouted sexily over his shoulder

"Do I look like Paris Hilton?" Dean quipped.

Sam walked away with the camera, while Carl snorted. He opened Jill's closet door and began filming around the mirror with apprehension.

"So I don't get it. I mean…the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?" Sam asked

"Beats me." Dean replied as Sam closed the closet door quietly.

"I want to know why Jill said it in the first place." Carl stated.

"It's just a joke." Charlie offered meekly.

"Yeah well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time."

Sam shuffled around the bathroom filming around the mirror when he stopped as he sees trickles of something running out from behind the mirror.

"Hey." Dean and Charlie turned to look at him. "There's a black light in the trunk, right?"

Sam carried the mirror out to Jill's bathroom and laid it on the bed upside down. Dean tossed him a black light. Meanwhile, Carl peeled off the brown paper that covered the back of the mirror. Sam shined the black light over the back of the mirror, to find the words "Gary Bryman."

"Gary Bryman?" Charlie repeated.

"You know who that is?" Sam questioned.

"No."

Outside, Dean and Charlie sat on the old park bench, Sam and Carl came up behind them.

"So, Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy. Two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver." Sam read of a piece of paper.

"Oh my God." Charlie whispered loudly.

"What?" Carl asked.

"Jill drove that car." Charlie said looking up at Carl.

"We need to get back to your friend Donna's house."

In the bathroom of Donna's house, Sam and Carl hunched over the back of the mirror with a black light. There was a handprint on it, and the words "Linda Shoemaker" scrawled along.

"Linda Shoemaker." Sam muttered.

The four of them made their way downstairs finding Donna at the base of them.

"Why are you asking me this?" Donna glared at them with hurt behind her eyes.

"Look, we're sorry, but it's important."

"Yeah. Linda's my mom okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it. I think you should leave." Donna snapped.

"Now Donna, just listen…" Dean said calmly.

"Get out of my house!" She shouted as she ran upstairs.

"Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?" Charlie murmured in disbelieve.

"Maybe." Carl responded thoughtfully.

"I think I should stick around." Charlie added as she gestured going upstairs.

"All right. Whatever you do, don't—"

"Believe me, I won't say it." Charlie replied quickly.

--

Dean sat at a computer, frowning slightly, whilst Sam and Carl gazed at some things posted on the bulletin board. Finding nothing to help them, Sam sighed tiredly and glanced at Dean. Intrigued, Sam stood behind him, trying to find out what he was doing.

"Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?" Sam asked with realisation dawning on his face.

"Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database—at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me."

"But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town."  
"I'm telling you there's nothing local, I've checked. So unless you got a better idea…" Dean trailed off waiting for a reply.

"The way Mary's choosing her victims, it seems like there's a pattern." Carl muttered thoughtfully while sinking onto his bed.

"I know, I was thinking the same thing." Dean answered, turning around in his chair.

"With Mr Shoemaker and Jill's hit and run…"

"Both had secrets where people died." Dean finished.

"Right. I mean there's a lot of folklore about mirrors-that they reveal all your lies, all your secrets, that they're a true reflection of your soul, which is why it's bad luck to break them." Sam said, frustration building as the case got deeper.

"Right, right. So maybe if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it." Carl replied. Finally they were getting somewhere, he thought.

"Whether you're the one that summoned her or not."

"Take a look at this." A picture of a woman laying by a mirror in a puddle of blood forms on the screen. Dean printed out another picture and handed it to Sam quickly. The picture was of a handprint and the letters "Tre" scrawled roughly on the back of a mirror.

"Looks like the same handprint."

"Her name was Mary Worthington—an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana." Dean informed his brothers as he walked to the bathroom.

"I was on the job for 35 years-detective for most of that. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder—that one still gets me." The old detective looked at the three men with sadness in his eyes.

"What exactly happened?" Dean questioned.

"You boys said you were reporters?" The detective asked, looking at each man in turn.

"We know Mary was 19, lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress. And we know the night of March 29th someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cut out her eyes with a knife." Sam reeled off hoping he didn't forget anything.

"That's right."

"See sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened." Carl inquired looking the aged detective in the eye. The detective hauled some files out of a file cabinet gingerly.

"Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this." He opened a file to the picture Dean found on the computer. "Now see that there? T-R-E?"

"Yeah."

"I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer." The detective said with a grimace.

"You know who it was?" Carl asked, surprised.

"Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon-Trevor Sampson." He pulled out a picture of a stern looking man. "And I think her cut her up good."

"Now why would he do something like that?"

"Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, "T". Well, her last entry, she was gonna tell "T"'s wife about their affair."

"Yeah but how do you know it was Sampson who killed her?" Dean said trying to be sure.

"It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out…it was almost professional." The man answered with a shudder.

"But you could never prove it?" Dean asked knowingly.

"No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous."

"Is he still alive?" Sam required, staring intently at the man in the photo.

"Nope." He eased down onto the couch and sighed. "If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could."

"Where's she buried?"

"She wasn't. She was cremated."

"What about that mirror" Dean nodded at the one in the picture." It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere is it?"

"Ah, no. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago."

"You have the names of her family by any chance?" Sam asked with fake innocence in his resounding voice.

--


End file.
